Science Fiction Though the Decades

Thursday, November 6, 2014

2014: The Abyss Beyond Dreams (Hamilton, Peter F.)

Detoured return to the Void of
expectation (3/5)

Of
Hamilton’s sixteen-book bibliography, I’ve now polished off eleven of the
tomes, including the Night’s Dawn trilogy (1996-1999) which I read earlier this
year ([1] [2] [3]). Though that trilogy isn’t his earliest work—a sticky -note factoid which
belongs to the Greg Mandel trilogy (1993-1995)—everything which made the
trilogy a popular success (subjectively, no) can be found is the rest of his
work. It’s difficult to boil down the essentials and give it a name, but
technology, horror, telepathy, and investigation play a heavy hand in most of
his novels—that goes for Great North Road (2012), somewhat. Now, after
reading The Abyss Beyond Dreams (2014), I realize that these same themes
are becoming redundant.

The
Commonwealth Universe series of novels (minus Misspent Youth [2002])
started off with a bang in Pandora’s Star (2004) and continued unabated
through more than a thousand pages in its sequel Judas Unchained (2005).
I was hyped by the announcement of the Void trilogy (2007-2010) and actually
found the storyline in the Void to be more interested than the storyline in the
Commonwealth! But after the third book—The Evolutionary Void (2011)—I
was getting a bit tired of the bucolic supernatural world of the Void and
wanted the sharp tang of a technological fix from the Commonwealth. The
conclusion to The Evolutionary Void finished, satisfyingly, on that same
note and many overtones for teasers into The Fallers duology.

In
my review for The Evolutionary Void, I mentioned four threads which were
left hanging, possibly as an enticement for the continuation of the
Commonwealth series. Two of these threads turned out to be dead ends in regards
to The Fallers duology, but two of the same ones I mentioned hit the nail on
the head: What happened to the far-flung colonists aboard the Brandt Dynasty ships?
What happened to Nigel and his trans-galactic fleet?

In Judas
Unchained (2005), Nigel’s fleet is first mentioned as an escape for his
Dynasty from the possible defeat by the Primes:

Nigel had
authorized eleven of the vast ships, with initial component acquisition consent
for another four. In theory, just one ship could carry enough equipment and
genetic material to establish a successful high-technology human society from
scratch. But Nigel had wanted to begin with more than the basics, and his
Dynasty was the largest in the Commonwealth. A fleet would make absolutely sure
any new human civilization they founded would succeed. (622)

Very
early, The Dreaming Void (2007) mentions both fleets:

The last major
departure had been in AD 3000, when Nigel Sheldon himself led a fleet of ten starships, the
largest craft ever built, to set up a ‘new human experience’ elsewhere. It was
strongly rumoured at the time that the ships had a trans-galactic flight range. (323)

But Mellanie’s
Redemption was a fine ship, she should be able to make the trip out to the
Drasix cluster, fifty thousand lightyears away, where the Brandt Dynasty ships
were said to have flown. (324)

The
Evolutionary Void (2010) also mentions Nigel’s fleet:

Nigel Sheldon had
offered Ozzie another way out, a berth on the Sheldon family armada of colony
starships. They weren’t just going to the other side of the galaxy to set up a
new society. Oh, no, not Nigel; he was off to a whole new galaxy to begin
again. A noble quest, restarting human civilization in a fresh part of the
universe. Then in another thousand years a new generation of colony ships might
spread to further galaxies. After all, as he’d pointed out, this one is
ultimately doomed with the Void at the center, so we need somewhere that’s got
a long-term future. (410-411)

The
Abyss Beyond Dreams starts off with a 94-page ordeal of one of the nine
Brandt colony ships—the Vermillion. It seems that all of the ships
passing near the Void had been transported into the Void universe. Crew are
being thawed from their sleep only to suffer unpleasant side-effects of the
Void’s technological restrictiveness, just as their ship experiences
limitations, but they have all the benefits of the seemingly supernatural
telekinesis and other powers Edeard had. Two objects pique the interest of
those on the Vermillion: the planet on which they may land and the
curious crystalline Forest. The planet, however, isn’t the fabled planet of
Edeard. It still looks inhabitable, so the Vermillion aims for the
planet while a splinter group investigate the odd emerald crystal Forest—Laura
Brandt is among that crew and she absolutely loves the word “bollocks”, which
she says twenty-five times in 94 pages. Unfortunately, the crystal resists
their persistent probing as automatic probe simply disappear from sight, then
even the Vermillion and the planet disappear. Still enticed by its
mystery and uncertain of the Skylords’ vague dialogue, they push on to attain a
sample from crystalline egg sacs at its extremes. Once the human crew touch the
eggs, they become absorbed. Laura, still on the observation ship, later sees
them return yet acting oddly. Horror quickly falls upon the observation ship as
they devour its human crew, yet Laura miraculously escapes to the surface of
the planet. This is only the beginning of her personal horror.

This
opening premise is a great start because it captures the imagination with the
“lost fleet”, the idea that a fleet of humanity became stranded and experiences
the hardships of its locality. This location isn’t a desert island with
cannibals, but it’s The Void in all its weirdness. All readers of the Void
trilogy are aware of Edeard’s planet named Querencia, but it was just an assumption
that this was the only planet it the void. Also an assumption, people
believed that the Skylords were native to the Void and that they were the only
bizarre manifestations within the Void. It’s a bit of a stretch for the reader
to experience two new revelations from the Vermillion: there’s another
planet and there’s another oddity; also, that oddity had the oddest of
qualities and is perhaps even the key to understanding the Void and—boom!—it’s right
on their doorstep.

The
vigilant Raiel maintain a million-year sentry post around the Void, fearful of
its ever-consuming growth. The Raiel are able to enter the Void universe, but
their mighty warship fleet had never been heard from again. They tracked the
Brandt colony ships across space and become concerned about their possible
penetration into the Void, a rather odd development considering it has never
happened in one million years. Though powerful in innumerous regards, they need
the help of one man to unravel the mystery of the Brandt fleet’s disappearance:
welcome back to the scene and the series Nigel Sheldon!

For
some reason (nostalgia, perhaps?), Nigel invites Paula Myo along for the Void
mission. However, she’ll stay aboard the observation vessel along with Nigel’s
original self. Nigel’s clone is the one who must do the dirty work and
investigate two things: What happened to the Brandt colony fleet? How can the
Void be destroyed? As the cloned Nigel in the Void experiences the planet of
Bienvenido, his “dreams” are broadcast to the original Nigel in the normal
universe. Just as Edeard and the crew of the Vermillion have
extra-sensory powers, Nigel, too, wields the same; Nigel is most aware of
Edeard’s powers because he and Paul had snuck in and witnessed all of Edeard’s
dreams, stolen from Inigo the Dreamer and cult leader of Living Dream. This
also seems like a stretch, a hastily included act to set the precedence for
Nigel’s infiltration to the Void. So, while the initial 94 pages are an intriguing
start to the novel, the next section where Nigel, Paula and the Raiel plan
their infiltration is a bit of a hasty rush, something which I’ve never said
for any Hamilton novel… slow and steady, that’s typically his pace until the
conclusion and only then is it a hasty retreat.

The
novel opens up a third story, which remains the focus of The Abyss Beyond
Dreams: Planet-bound on Bienvenido, Slvasta is a simple commanding officer
for the regiment in charge of protecting the village of Cham from bandits and
Fallers. Bandits may be a daily fear, but the Fallers are a three-millennium
long fear engraved into the conscious of every human on Bienvenido. Slvasta’s
squad is called to investigate one such Faller alert. Though the scientists
regard the green Forest in space as the source of the Fallers, they have no way
to track their movement toward Bienvenido and are only alerted when they streak
groundward. They know a few other things, too: (1) the heaven-fallen eggs
enrapture humans near it thus drawing them into it, eggsuming them, and
creating an evil twin which cannibalizes living human bodies and (2) they can
be destroyed in egg form or ersatz human form.

This
is, again, all a curious development because Edeard’s city and planet were
never hampered by these falling demons from the Forest. The Forest and the
Fallers are both an entirely new development which was never mentioned
in any of the three books in the Void trilogy. Again, this seems like a
desperate attempt on Hamilton’s part to explain the mysteries of the Void after
already having developed the mysteries without the answer… kind of like BSing
on an exam. Taken by itself or taken in context with the other Commonwealth
books, this book is just odd as the majority of the storyline (other than Nigel,
the Void and the Raiel) does not reflect its predecessors.

Thereon,
in itself a good story, Slvasta makes some revelations about the need for
progress and change through revolution—the seed for this revolution was planted
by Nigel himself when they crossed paths on the riverside while Slvasta was out
seeking Fallers. Nigel, wise for more than a thousand years, impresses Slvasta
with the kernel of truth: Bienvenido will not change itself nor will it change
from the top; it will only change from its core—the people. After Slvasta is
given a seat of power so that he can stop the culling of modified animals
(remember the genistars from the Void, mind-crafted animals for a specific
purpose?) because they are easily controlled by Fallers and a clear threat to humans,
he doesn’t lie still for long. Witnessing the turgid bureaucracy of his
government, Slavasta realizes he is in a position to make those changes that
Bienvenido needs—a revolution is at hand!

Slvasta’s
story thread of social upheaval doesn’t garner much interest. Behind this
storyline, there are three lurking agents of change which that impinge on the
flow of events: (1) The Captain and his mansion, (2) Nigel and his farm, and
(3) Laura Brandt and he perpetual descent.

The
Captain and His Mansion

More
than three thousand year ago, the Brandt colony vessel named Vermillion made
landfall and established exactly what it was intended to do, just not in the
same universe. The captain—Captain Cornelius—was the first “Captain” of
Bienvenido and, three thousand years later through direct lineage, Captain
Philious now reigns with an iron fist, quashing any protest or revolt. Under
his palace lay the remains the Vermillion, rich with ancient
Commonwealth technology but sitting idle as much of it doesn’t work under The
Void’s bizarre quantum structure. Much of this is unknown to the commonfolk of
Bienvenido, but Nigel knows and Nigels sees opportunity.

Nigel
and His Farm

To
avoid suspicion from the locals, Nigel establishes a farm on the town’s
outskirts. However, being the eclectic man he is, Nigel pushes the limits of
technology on this backwater world where electronics don’t work: steam engines
are created, unique genistars are produced, and other scientific dalliances
abound. He’s definitely up to something. Ultimately, his goal to is destroy the
Void and free the humans from the grip of its quantum tyranny, but he must tick
off a long list of mental exercises so that he can accomplish his personal goal
and as a favor to the Raiel. Once such jaunt is to the Desert of Bone, which is
rumored to be piled with bones and watched over by a monster; however, once
there, Nigel witnesses a massive heap of expods, the exact same exopod that
Laura used to save herself and enter the atmosphere… just multiplied by hundreds
of thousands.

Laura
Brandt and Her Perpetual Descent

In
the back of the reader’s mind, there should rest of curious case of Laura
Brandt. She descended to Bienvenido in her exopod with a shattered ankle only
to see the exact same exopod fall from the sky on top of hers, whereby she
cracks the hatch and kills her new self. Multiply this scene by three thousand
years; it’s grisly, it’s cool. The ramifications of this oddity are blurry but
enticing, one thread of the novel which had my mind reeling.

And…
if you’ve been reading Hamilton’s work for a while, you there some sex stashed
away somewhere! I remember a few vivid scenes—not necessarily good scenes, mind
you—in the Void trilogy. Abyss only has one sex scene but, boy, is it a
doozy. It’s so bad, I actually guffawed aloud and read it to my colleague:

Her hands were
fumbling with his shirt. He used his teekay to lift her dress off. They fell
back onto the mattress, touching and caressing skin as it was freed from the
restriction of clothes. When they were naked, she straddled him, surrounded by
bright sunlight pouring in through the bay window behind her. He used his
teekay to pull her down, impaling her. The sunlight seemed to flow around her,
turning his world to a glorious white blaze as she cried out. Then she was
riding him, letting him into her thoughts to reveal her body’s secret demands,
pleading with him to perform them. He responded with equal intimacy, sharing
his physical appetite. And a completely uninhibited Bethaneve used her hands
and mouth and tongue and teekay to delight him in all the ways he’d always
fantasized she would. (284)

------------

If you’re familiar
with the Night’s Dawn trilogy, a few facets from there will certainly surface
in Abyss: the existence of souls and the evilness of those changed. If
you’re familiar with the Commonwealth and Void series, you see a few thematic
reflections in Abyss: the sexualized young girl who can change the
world, the bucolic hardships of the Void, and scientific progress à la Nigel and Ozzie. There’s
something recognizable about Hamilton’s writing, in the thematic sense, and
it’s becoming apparent that he has a formula that hasn’t changed with the
times. This may be because I indulged gluttonously, though not with great
satisfaction, on all three Night’s Dawn books this year. But there’s also the
expectation of continuing a series without dropping all this new razzle-dazzle
on the plate of the reader, very little of it familiar. There’s that word
again—familiar. For something of the unfamiliar, try Hamilton's collection Manhattan in Reverse(2011).

So, some
element of Abyss are agreeably familiar while others are disagreeably
familiar. One might think a one-off novel might stray from this familiarity but
even Great North Road suffers from these ubiquitous similarities, though
it fared better than Abyss. To-date, Abyss is one of Hamilton’s
least generous novels, one that doesn’t match expectations and one that doesn’t
ignite the imagination.